


Abandoned

by grimmfairy



Series: Scott and Stiles vs. the Greek system [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, Bisexual Scott McCall, Bullying, Derek Hale & Scott McCall Friendship, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hangover, Hazing, Homophobic Language, Human Derek Hale, Human Scott McCall, Hurt Scott McCall, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, No Sex, Permanent marker, Platonic Cuddling, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott and Stiles are Roommates, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sexual Assault, Stiles and Derek are straight, Stiles is a good friend, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, but he's still grumpy, for a little while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:04:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmfairy/pseuds/grimmfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles used to be excited that he and Scott were going to roommates at college. That was before Scott was taken in by the super-douche fraternity boys that treated Scott like he was God's gift to their little cult. Something always seems off about the bleach-blonde leader of the fraternity to Stiles, but Scott, being the the naive and trusting person he is doesn't sense it because he's too eager to please this popular good-looking guy. Stiles, being too uncool to be seen with the super-douches, is pushed aside more and more by Scott.</p><p>Stiles is heartbroken and angry when Scott ditches him to pledge the fraternity. It hurts to know that Scott is placing the fraternity over him because they're his new "brothers", so he befriends the surly senior lacrosse manager with the blown-out knee and moves on with his life.</p><p>Then he gets a call.</p><p>"St-Stiles? Oh my god, p-ple-ease can-can you bring me some c-cl-clothes? I n-need help, please..." Scott's voice broke and he sobbed. "I c-can't-Just please come g-get me!"</p><p>The one in which hazing goes way too horribly far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that I can't get out of my head. I mean, hazing would destroy someone as kind as pre-werewolf Scott, I think. So here it is. There is threats of rape in this, but no actual rape or object penetration.

Stiles knocked on the door of Derek's apartment loudly around 10:00 on Friday night.

"COME ON! It's freezing out here!" Stiles pounded on the door louder. "Derek Hale, you let me in this instant or I'm going to kill you!"

The door finally unlocked and swung open to reveal the broody face of Stiles's new best friend.

"Come in before someone calls the cops!" Derek sounded gruff and angry, but Stiles could see the laughter dancing in his eyes. "What do you want?"

"You did not forget about our marathon. I refuse to believe that Derek 'I know every line in every book by heart' Hale forgot about our Harry Potter marathon weekend!" Stiles flailed wildly, the grocery bags in his hands momentarily forgotten. Derek squints his eyes at him and tilts his head back as if he can't quite remember. "No! You didn't! I can see through your lies, sourwolf."

"Stop calling me that," Derek said, the stoic look finally breaking into a wide grin. "Of course I didn't forget. We have all the snacks, food, and drinks we're going to need because I'm pretty sure we won't be leaving the apartment any time soon."

Stiles fist-bumped him with a grocery bag and an overnight bag still hanging from his fist. Derek grinned and helped him carry everything to the tiny kitchen that his college apartment allowed.

"I'll stop calling you that when you stop looking like a wolf sucking on a lemon when you meet new people," Stiles ducked a smack to the back of head and bounced into the small living area to flop dramatically on the couch in front of the large TV that Derek insisted was the important part of having an apartment. "Where's your roommate?"

Derek rolled his eyes.

"She's my sister, not my roommate. Laura went home for the weekend. Something about not wanting to get nerd all over her," Derek held up the first movie. "Shall we begin?"

Stiles nodded enthusiastically. Derek grinned again, flashing the white teeth that few ever saw. Stiles took pride in the fact he was already one of Derek's closest friends on campus. According to Laura, Derek had a hard time playing nice with others because he had been badly bullied in high school and blowing out his knee had really ripped a hole in his life. Well, Stiles was the wrecking ball that smashed down his walls with a love of Harry Potter that finally rivaled Derek's own and his refusal to leave Derek alone. Of course, if Scott wasn't being such a naive tool...

No, tonight was going to be fun and Stiles was going to forget how he had always planned to do this marathon with Scott before the super-douches took a liking to the new athletic star on campus. He had other friends, and he had Derek, who was sympathetic and always listened to Stiles rant about losing his friend with an understanding attitude.

It still hurt though, knowing that Scott had abandoned a decade of best-friendship to become a pledge of a stupid fraternity full of 'roided-up idiots that only wanted to use Scott for his image as an amazing lacrosse player. His best friend and roommate was hardly ever at the dorm room anymore, and when he was the air always filled with awkward tension and silence. Their shared room had become little more than a glorified closet since Scott stayed at the frat house more nights than not even though he didn't actually have a room there. 

What hurt most was the knowledge that Derek believed he was just a substitute for Scott. This marathon was Stiles's way of showing him that wasn't true.

* * *

Stiles and Derek were engrossed in the basilisk on screen that Stiles almost didn't notice the insistent buzzing of his phone. He sighed unhappily and checked the screen. He almost didn't answer.

SCOTT

"Now he decides to call me?" Stiles said incredulously. "Now, after over a month of the cold shoulder. He better be dying."

Derek paused the movie and tried to look like he wasn't eavesdropping as Stiles hit the answer key just before voicemail picked up.

"This better be good, Scott, because I am still really..." Stiles stopped mid sentence when a sob tore through the speaker of his phone. "Scott? Scott, what's wrong?"

A long pause where only Scott's struggling breaths could be heard.

"St-Stiles? Oh my god, p-ple-ease can-can you bring me some c-cl-clothes? I n-need help, please..." Scott's voice broke and he sobbed. "I c-can't-Just please come g-get me!"

Stiles felt the blood in his veins run cold and his face must have shown it because Derek was staring at with a concerned look on his face, a hand already reaching for his jacket and keys.

"Scotty, where are you?" Stiles switched to speaker phone so Derek would hear too. "I'm coming to get you, I swear!"

"H-hiding in the-the bathroom at-at the house, the-" Scott was cut off by loud yelling. "Please, Stiles! They're back!"

Scott hung up, but not before he heard "There's the little faggot!" "Get him!"

Stiles stared at the phone dumbly for a moment as he thought about what "the house" could be before realizing Scott meant the frat house where he was currently living. He locked gazes with Derek.

Derek's eyes were hard and dark with fury where Stiles were wide with concern and fear. The ride to the frat house was quiet and the air in the vehicle was tense enough to choke Stiles as he thought about his friend could have meant. His worst fears were confirmed when they pulled up in front of the frat house and saw the wild party raging inside and outside the house. Hazing night.

"Stay in the car," Derek's voice was tight with fury and with his dark stubble and leather jacket he looked like an avenging angel. Or demon. Stiles shook his head and clutched the strap of the overnight bag he had brought to Derek's apartment. He hadn't wanted to waste time stopping by the dorm room to grab some of Scott's clothes.

"No, he asked for me, I'm going in there to get him!" Stiles was glad he sounded more sure than he felt. Derek nodded.

"Stay close to me. And just a warning. I might...I might show a side of me you've never seen," Derek opened the car door and got out. Stiles followed suit, and tried to match Derek's purposeful strides to the house. One glare from Derek had the drunk "bouncer" scurrying away to find the leader. Derek pushed people out of the way until he found a young freshman pledge wearing nothing but underwear and a dog collar.

"Hey man, what-"

"Where's Scott McCall?" Derek growled. The boy backed up and pointed to the stairs.

"First room on the left," The boy risked a look into Derek's rage filled eyes and then looked at Stiles and whispered. "You have to help him, please!"

Stiles forgot about promising to stay close to Derek and took off for the stairs, sprinting around drunk students and hopping over discarded red solo cups and trash to dodge couples making out on the stairs. Derek cursed and followed, keeping people away from his smaller friend. They reached the door and heard laughter from within. Derek tried the door handle and found it was locked. A panicked cry for help overwhelmed him and Stiles watched in awe as Derek kicked the door in with his heavy boots.

The sight that greeted them was so much worse than either could have ever imagined. They both froze in shock and Stiles dropped the overnight bag from numb fingers.

Scott's wrists were tied to the head board with what looked like the remains of his t-shirt, and his feet were tied to the other bedposts so his legs were spread. Blood trickled from his nose and split lip, and bruises littered his tan skin like paint. His curly mop of hair was wet and plastered to his forehead with was Stiles could only assume was beer since another brother was currently force-feeding it to his friend and another was pouring it all over his body. But the worst was the permanent marker.

Scott was covered in permanent marker.

BITCH was written down his thighs in red, FUCK HOLE with an arrow to his mouth was on his neck in blue, and FAGGOT was written on his forehead in black. Inappropriate drawings littered his torso and cheeks, and Stiles was willing to bet that even more covered his friend's other side. Scott was laying still, crying and sniffling and begging them stop in between forced swallows of beer that mostly ended up in his eyes. Stiles distantly thought to himself that Scott looked like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, so it was a good thing Stiles still carried around an extra inhaler out of habit.

"What, I thought little dickwhores like you want the world to know what you are!" The leader of the frat, douche-nozzle number one in Stiles's mind, was holding Scott's lacrosse stick in his hands. "You like cock up the ass right? This is pretty close! Want me to stick this up your faggot asshole? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The others laughed and continued to draw on Scott and pinch his tender skin, hurling homophobic slurs at the helpless intoxicated freshman. Derek snapped out of his horrified silence and sprang into action.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He roared. The others turned and regarded the new person in the room. "Let him go!"

The leader just laughed while Scott tried to weakly pull on his bonds as another meathead pried his mouth open wider.

"What? Little whore tried to kiss me on the dance floor! We're just showing the little faggot what happens when he tries to kiss his future brothers!" He grabbed a bottle of vodka off the ground and turned to pour it into Scott's forcibly opened mouth as the younger boy coughed and spluttered. "He has to pay the price of betraying the brotherhood's trust."

"Call the police, Stiles," Derek growled. "This is hazing, and the university will expel their stupid asses."

Some of the brothers hesitated at this. It was one thing to have the police called to a party, but another to have the evidence of illegal activities all around them when they arrived. One brother charged him like a drunken bull, and Derek held his ground. The brother barely reached the leather-clad man before he was flat on his back with a broken nose.

"Anyone not in this room by the time Stiles finishes dialing won't be accused," Derek snarled. "Get. OUT!"

Most of the brothers ran away, stumbling drunkenly out the door with muttered "It's just a joke" and the like. Scott had by now begun to openly sob Stiles's name and Stiles ran to his side, only to be stopped by the douche-nozzle grabbing his shoulder.

"He belongs to me," He sneered. "If he leaves now, he better not come back."

"I want to go home, Stiles..." Scott whispered brokenly. Stiles shoved the offending hand away and whipped out his phone.

"Get out or I'll have you arrested," Stiles hissed. The senior just laughed and sauntered away, but it was forced bravado. As soon as the door closed behind him (as well as it could with a broken lock), Stiles started running his fingers over Scott's face, wiping away the tears and beer from his friend's cheeks. "Scott, it's okay, I'm here. They're gone. We're going to get you home."

Scott just cried, pulled at his bonds ineffectively. Stiles tried to untie the knots around his ankles, but they were too tight and the skin on Scott's ankles was so raw that every pull on the rope caused him to cry out in pain. Stiles looked helplessly at Derek. The knots were too tight and soaked with booze.

"Scott, I'm going to cut you loose. Don't move, ok?" Derek kept his voice soft and rage in check. Scott barely seemed to register him, but calmed somewhat at the familiar voice of the lacrosse team manager. He knew Derek in passing, and knew that he and Stiles were good friends so he could be trusted.

Derek pulled out a pocketknife and carefully cut away the rope binding his feet and then helped Stiles untangle Scott's hands from the cotton fabric of the torn rags of his shirt. As soon as he was free he sat up and grabbed Stiles. Stiles held his best friend close, ignoring the stench of booze and beer and permanent marker that had replaced the normal scent of Scott's cologne and deodorant as he ran fingers through soaked hair and wrapped an arm around Scott's waist. Scott slurred drunk words into Stiles's ear, most of which were unintelligible.

"I feel sick. They kept making me drink icky stuff," The words were slurred and quiet, and Scott wouldn't open his eyes. He clutched Stiles tightly, ignoring the fact that he was completely naked and covered in marker. Scott suddenly leaned over the side of the bed and vomited, retching miserably as the mostly alcoholic contents of his stomach burned his throat.

Derek stood awkwardly next to the bed while Stiles rubbed Scott's back comfortingly, unsure of how to help this boy he barely knew. All he needed to know though was that there was a naked teenager going through the worst night of his life and he needed his help.

"Scotty, where are your clothes?" Stiles asked gently once Scott had finished. Scott shrugged, unable to form words. "Ok, that's ok. We brought you some clothes."

Derek handed Stiles the discarded overnight bag and Stiles pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a Batman logo t-shirt. Scott was starting to shake violently and Stiles had to basically dress a limp doll because Scott wasn't in control of his muscles. Derek helped get the shirt on over Scott's head and helped Scott stand so Stiles could pull the worn sweatpants over his naked lower half. Scott leaned into the warmth of Derek's skin as the older male supported all of his weight because his legs were too shaky to stand alone. Derek noticed the shivers wracking his frame and slipped off the leather jacket so he could place it around the trembling teen's shoulders and helped him slip his arms into the sleeves.

Stiles helped Scott tie the drawstrings of the sweatpants and zipped up the jacket. Almost as an afterthought, Stiles pulled his beanie out of the bag and pulled it on over the writing on Scott's forehead. It didn't hide everything, but it seemed to make Scott feel better. He sat Scott back down on the bed.

"Ok, Scott, is this the room you keep your stuff in?" Stiles glanced around the room when Scott nodded and starting looking for anything that Scott owned. As he walked around opening drawers and checking the closet, he gathered the few things Scott kept at the house and stuffed them into the overnight bag until it bulged. He would just replace anything Scott left behind because there was no way Scott was coming back here.

When Stiles was finally done, Derek took the bag and slung it over his shoulder. Derek helped Scott stand and carefully wrapped Scott's arm around Stiles's neck and Stiles placed an arm around Scott's waist to support him as they made their way slowly through the crowd. Most were silent, staring in shock or embarrassment, even disgust, as Stiles led Scott towards freedom and Derek guarded them with his blazing eyes and clenched fists. The boy that had pointed them in the right direction caught Derek's eye briefly and then looked away blushing with shame.

Scott whimpered and clutched at Stiles's shirt when he stumbled over some trash on the floor, hampering their speed somewhat, but Stiles was determined. All thoughts of "I told you so" that he had been saving up from the moment Scott met the frat brothers had fled his mind at the first broken sob over the phone, and now they were being replaced with thoughts on how to get revenge on the douches. Stiles had always known Scott was bisexual from the moment he figured out what the word meant, and it had never meant much to him. Apparently, the hyper-masculine fraternity had not thought the same way and the "normal" hazing they dished out was amplified ten-fold for the kind-hearted boy.

"See ya around, fag," The leader leered at Scott menacingly and Scott shrank back, hiding his face in Stiles's neck. Before he could even finish a mocking laugh, Derek had him by the throat.

"You better not, asshole," Derek lowered his voice. "This kid's dad is a Sheriff. You really think he doesn't have connections in law enforcement that even your rich daddy can't buy off?"

Derek only released him when he saw that Stiles had reached the door with his friend.

Scott sat in the back seat with his head in Stiles's lap, groaning as his head spun with the alcohol he had been forced to consume. Stiles was coaxing him to take small sips from the waterbottle that he fished out of Derek's gym bag, cooing words of encouragement each time Scott succeeded in taking in a little liquid. He have given Scott a wad of tissues to hold to his bloody nose, though Scott seemed to be having trouble holding them there. The smell of alcohol was stifling in the confined space and Derek knew it would take days to air out. He thought about dropping off the boys at the dorms and shuddered at his memories of tiny rooms with the only bathroom down the hall and lack of privacy in the showers, because Scott was going to need one desperately.

"We can go to my place," Derek blurted out suddenly. Stiles jumped at the sudden noise, but smiled gratefully at his friend.

"Scott, buddy, do you want to go back to the dorm?" Stiles asked quietly, rubbing Scott's back in a near constant cycle of comforting patterns. "Or to Derek's apartment? We can take of you there."

"The dorms smell weird," Scott muttered. Stiles nodded in agreement, and caught Derek's eye in the rear view mirror. He mouthed 'thank you' to his friend and continued to make Scott drink water slowly.

When they finally reached Derek's place, Scott was more coherent but still very drunk. He swayed and stumbled when he tried to walk and Stiles half-carried him up to the apartment where Derek let them in and then directed them to the bathroom where Scott could shower. He left the boys alone, telling Stiles to holler for him if he needed help. He showed Stiles where to find rubbing alcohol and cotton balls to remove the permanent marker and walked out.

"I thought they were my friends. They aren't my friends, you were right," Scott slurred, grinning as Stiles sat him down on the edge of the tub/shower combo. "Stiles, you're a good friend."

"I know, buddy. Ok, let's get you naked again," Stiles said brightly, trying to distract the boy from the marks under the clothes. He unzipped the jacket and pulled it off to hang on the doorknob. "Do you think you can clean the marker off yourself?"

Scott nodded brightly and held his arms up like a little kid so Stiles could pull the t-shirt off, which he did with a fond sigh. This caused the beanie to fall off, and Scott saw his reflection. The goofy smile fell instantly and he started to cry again.

"I'm not a faggot, Stiles! That's a bad word I'm...I'm bi, not a whore," Scott's lower lip trembled as he stood on wobbly legs and shucked his sweatpants ungracefully. His body was littered with marker, too much to take off in one try. Stiles felt his own eyes prick with tears now that he could fully observe his friend without the adrenaline of trying to get him away from his "brothers". Scott tried to cover the words, but there were too many for two hands to hide. In large red letters, the words 'CUM DUMP' were scrawled across his lower back with an arrow pointing...lower. "And...and I'm not a bitch...or a f-fu-ck ho-"

Scott suddenly lurched forward and dry heaved into the sink, tears running down his flushed, sweaty face. Stiles rubbed Scott's back again, retracing the patterns he had drawn there earlier.

"Shh, Scott, you're not any of those things at all," Stiles moved to block Scott's view of the mirror when he finally straightened. He cupped Scott's face in his hands. "You're my friend, and even though I think we need to talk about how you stopped hanging out with me, we will always be friends and that will never change. Let me take care of you, ok? I'm going to take away the bad words."

Scott nodded and hugged his arms to his chest. Stiles retrieved the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls and began to gently scrub at the words and pictures on Scott's face, deliberately not thinking about the obscene words he had seen on Scott's back, or all of the phallus's drawn on his skin, some drawn with a enough force to cause raised lines of irritated skin. When Scott's forehead and cheeks and neck were finally clean fifteen minutes later, Stiles got him a water bottle and continued to rub out the worst of the slurs, avoiding the ones drawn over the really deep bruises, until his upper body was relatively ink-free and the words on his back were obliterated. The process took over an hour because Scott kept squirming around because he was ticklish. Finally, Stiles started a bath for him, and when the water was ready, he helped his friend into the small tub so he wouldn't slip. He also sanitized the split lip with the alcohol, and checked to be sure he wasn't still bleeding from his nose. Scott continued sip water throughout the process, slowly coming down from the drunken haze into a buzz. He reclined in the water and was able to wash himself with a washcloth Stiles found, scrubbing hard at the remaining ink. He let Stiles wash his hair and scrub the ink on his back until all that remained were faint lines that would fade quickly.

Stiles helped his friend out of the tub and helped him dry off gently, toweling his hair and smiling at Scott's tentative grin at the state of his wild hair. Scott looked much better. His color had returned, putting a faint pink tinge on his cheeks as he became very aware of how naked he was in front of Stiles even though they had been naked around each other countless times since childhood and in lacrosse locker rooms.

"I've been a bad friend," Scott muttered as Stiles led him into Derek's bedroom and saw the pile of clothes waiting on Derek's bed for Scott to wear. "I'm the worst friend."

Stiles threw a shirt at Scott's head.

"You're not that bad, Scotty. You just got a little carried away in your pursuit of new-found popularity," Stiles shrugged as he sat on Derek's bed while Scott clothed himself. "You never changed, you just...forgot."

"I'm still sorry," Scott whispered, suddenly throwing himself at Stiles, tucking himself into Stiles's arms. "You came for me even though..."

He started to tear up again. Scott wondered how he could even manage to create tears still.

"Shh, of course I did, idiot," Stiles muttered into Scott's hair.

"I-I was worried you wouldn't pick up when you saw it was me..." Scott suddenly tensed. "They have my phone!"

Stiles soothed his friend gently, reminding him that he had gathered all of his things from the frat house. Scott finally started to doze off even as Stiles continued to give him water. Derek brought a sleeve of saltine crackers and his laptop into the room and they situated Scott in-between them with the crackers while they watched a few episodes of Family Guy. Scott managed to eat some of the crackers by taking tiny bites in between sips of water until he could no longer keep his eyes open and slumped over onto Stiles's shoulder in deep sleep, curling around his best friend unconsciously.

"Derek, thank you so much," Stiles said quietly as he stroked Scott's hair back from his forehead where the barest outline on words was still visible if he looked closely enough. "Scott really needed me, but I couldn't have done it alone."

"He's your friend, so he's my friend too, even if I used to think he deserved to be punished for abandoning you," Derek looked incredibly guilty at the admission. He glanced down at the sleeping boy between them. "He's going to be really sick tomorrow."

"I know. But we'll be here for him," Stiles said matter-of-factly. "It's always been just the two of us. We had other friends, sure, but...we were  _the_  dynamic duo. Now you're with us though."

"Really?" Derek asked incredulously.

"Sure. You didn't even hesitate to pull a kid you barely know out of a fraternity full of idiot meatheads that could have hurt you or gotten you arrested and then you let us take over your bathroom for hours and let him eat your food and sleep in your bed. Also, you hate Family Guy but Scott likes it. I think you've joined our little club," Stiles ticked off the points on his fingers as he spoke.

"Awesome, the dynamic duo plus me," Derek quipped as he slipped out of his bed to turn off the lights. He climbed back in and settled on his pillow to sleep.

"Please. We're the Terrible Trio now." Stiles kissed Scott's forehead and let himself fall asleep.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Whore_

_Bitch_

_Slut_

_Cum dump_

_Faggot_

_Rough hands touching him every where, sharp markers digging into his skin, booze burning his throat and eyes_

Scott opened his eyes and immediately shut them again against the gentle light coming in from the window as the sun rose. Stabbing pain in his brain made him dizzy and sick and he groaned as he sat up. A hand touched his neck and he flinched away, waiting for the harsh voice of his fraternity president to call him more names. He felt bile rising in his throat.

"Whoa, Scotty, it's ok, it's just me," A familiar voice said softly. "How do you feel?"

"I-I'm going to be sick," Scott choked out. Stiles took his hand and led him to the bathroom where he situated Scott in front of the toilet right as Scott started heaving. Scott's world became the wracking coughs, burning nostrils, muscle spasms and feverish heat until he felt a heavenly cool, wet washcloth settle on his neck. A hand started rubbing practiced circles on his back, soothing the spasming muscles slightly as Scott switched to dry heaving. Stiles sat behind Scott on the floor, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes when the damp strands fell into them. His friend looked so pathetic in the borrowed sweatshirt that was too big and sleep pants that barely stayed around his hips as he groaned in pain.

"It's alright, Scotty, let it out. Just relax, I'm not going anywhere," Stiles kept up his quiet dialogue until Scott finally stilled, resting his forehead against the cool porcelain. "Do you think you're done?"

Scott waited for a few more minutes until he figured his stomach was settled enough to stand. Stiles grasped his sweaty hand and helped him stand, steadying him when the dizziness made Scott tilt to the side. Scott's face was flushed and red, and sweat dripped down his forehead in tiny drops that Stiles wiped away with another wet cloth.

"'m sleepy," Scott mumbled hoarsely. "They've been keeping us awake at night..."

"Come on, back to bed, it's still early," Stiles urged gently, tamping down on a new wave of anger. That's why Scott had looked so tired when he saw him on campus. Derek had gone out for an early morning run, so the bed was unoccupied and Stiles was glad that Scott wouldn't have to feel self-conscious about sharing a bed with a near-stranger. He tucked Scott back under the covers like his mother used to do for him and laid down next to him on top of the comforter to watch Netflix with headphones while Scott continued to doze for another couple of hours until his dizziness had subsided somewhat, though his headache remained.

Stiles tried not to focus on the visible remnants of faded permanent marker as he led Scott out to the living room. Scott sat quietly on the sofa, his flush fading as his headache reached near-migraine levels. Derek was in the kitchen making coffee and eating cereal, and he offered Scott a glass of water and some more saltines as he sat down next to him. Stiles retreated to the kitchen to get his own cup of coffee and cereal. Scott thanked the older boy quietly, blushing as he realized that his lacrosse manager must have been the blurry figure that was with Stiles last night at the party. He remembered vaguely that Derek had been the one to yell at his tormentors. They sat in silence for awhile while Scott sipped the water and nibbled on a cracker.

"Thanks for...last night and stuff, Derek," Scott mumbled. "You didn't have to do all this for me."

"You needed my help, Scott," Derek rested a large hand lightly on Scott's shoulder. "I would have done it for anybody, but the look on Stiles's face when he answered his phone was pretty persuasive too."

Scott rubbed his hands together as if doing so would wash the remaining ink stains away as snippets of the night replayed themselves in his mind. Stiles saw Scott's self-blame look starting to creep over face and ran over, breakfast forgotten.

"No, no you are not blaming yourself for this!" Stiles knelt in front of Scott and forced Scott's tired eyes to meet his own. "This was that asshole's fault, not yours!"

"I was so stupid," Scott whispered. "I got... _so_ drunk and then I was dancing and I told him I was bi because he said brothers don't have secrets and...and-" Scott scrubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand roughly. "He said prove it, so I thought he wanted me to kiss him so I tried and-!"

Scott was starting to panic so Stiles shushed him gently.

"Shh, you can talk about later when you feel better," Stiles soothed gently, taking a seat on the other side of Scott. "Just work on feeling better, ok? We'll talk later."

Scott nodded and then groaned when his head spun. Stiles rubbed his temples soothingly the way that Scott had done for him the first time he got drunk senior year of high school. Derek watched the strange exchange with interest. Who knew opening up to one boy would result in a bonus friend? Derek got up and refilled Scott's water glass and brought Stiles's abandoned cereal back to the couch. Scott's eyes landed on the stack of Harry Potter movies on the coffee table, something Derek noticed with a smile. He turned on the TV and restarted the second movie from the beginning.

When Scott's headache had retreated to a dull ache with the help of the water, he asked Derek if he could have some cereal too. Scott protested vigorously when Derek stood to get it for him, insisting he could serve himself if Derek just told him where to find the cereal. He just wanted to do something for himself after spending all night and morning being coddled. Derek saw Stiles making a warning gesture and sat down reluctantly after telling Scott to check the second cabinet on the left. Scott stood carefully, testing his dizziness, and smiled brightly when his head didn't spin. Stiles grinned too, glad that Scott was feeling better. Scott re-situated himself on the couch and ate half a bowl of cereal slowly as the movie played on, gulping down an aspirin now that he had food in his stomach.

Of course, the bubble had to burst some time.

As more memories blinked into focus in Scott's mind, he remembered what the borthers were about to do to him when Stiles rescued him. Stiles felt Scott lean his face into his shoulder and wrap his arms around his narrow waist halfway through the movie. He was trembling and sniffling, trying not to cry. Stiles didn't say anything, just started rubbing his friend's back again with slow strokes up and down his spin. Derek looked at him with concern written all over his stubbled face. Scott pulled his feet up under himself and curled closer into Stiles, trying to hold himself together.

"What going on in your head, buddy?"

"Th-they were going to, to," Scott took a shaky breath. "They said they were going to do st-stuff to me..."

Stiles rubbed Scott's shoulder softly. He was scared to ask what Scott meant so he decided to wait for his friend to continue at his own pace. Derek hesitantly moved closer and rest a hand on Scott's back, and the pressure was reassuring to the younger boy. It made him feel safe.

"If you hadn't gotten me out of there when you did, he really would have put my crosse in-" Scott started to cry into Stiles's shoulder and Derek moved even closer, gently massaging the tense muscles of Scott's neck with his hand. "He said he'd put things  _inside_  me, Stiles." Scott finished in a whisper.

"But I did get there, and you're safe now," Stiles murmured. Scott nodded and looked up into Stiles's eyes. "And you never have to go back, ok?"

"But...they took my picture," Scott whispered brokenly.

"Ok, we'll deal with it," Stiles soothed his friend. "Everything will be alright."

Stiles wrapped his arm tighter around his friend, pulling him in tightly to his side. Scott had always been big into cuddling when he was upset. After his parents' divorce, Scott had spent almost every night at Stiles's house wrapped around his best friend like an octopus. Stiles didn't mind, being a very tactile person himself, but the way Scott was clinging to him now was causing rage to build in his stomach.

* * *

Scott eventually took a long shower to fully remove the last traces of ink, which involved a very awkward request for help from Stiles when he realized he couldn't reach the writing between his shoulder blades. For his part, Stiles just scrubbed at the ink while debating with Scott whether a movie could ever be better the book as if nothing strange was happening. Finally, when the damp-haired teenager reemerged into the living area, the only physical reminders of his hazing were the bruises on his body and around his wrist and ankles. Derek had Scott roll his pant leg and hold still while he delicately rubbed ointment on the areas where the rope had rubbed his skin raw and then wrapped them with gauze. They were standing in the kitchen eating mac-and-cheese when Scott suddenly remembered that he had promised to call his mom with the results of his pledge night.

"Where's my phone? I want to call my mom," Scott asked. Stiles dug around in the bag and handed him the phone. When Scott unlocked the screen, over twenty messages were waiting for him from the president of the fraternity. He opened the first one, then the next, and the next, and his face got progressively paler until the phone slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Derek picked it up and couldn't help but see the screen. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"How many of these did you get?" Derek asked tightly. Stiles shot him a quizzical look, and then looked at Scott who was frozen in place with his eyes trained on Derek's angry face. Stiles reached for the phone and instantly wished he hadn't.

On the screen was a picture of Scott's teary face being force to drink from a bottle.

"There's over twenty photos," Scott whispered. "I...They...What if..."

He dissolved into tears and Derek's anger was replaced by sadness as he pulled the smaller boy in for a tight hug before he even registered the action. Scott laid his head on the broad chest and let his tears fall silently, forgetting for a moment that he didn't really know Derek all that well. Stiles went through the photos one by one. Many of them were full body shots of Scott, showing him naked and scared and most had the faces of at least one of the fraternity members clearly visible.

"Scott, you could give these to the police. They're evidence," Stiles said. "They'd get in a lot of trouble for this."

"I just...I want to forget about this," Scott whimpered. "I don't want the world to see those."

Stiles clenched his jaw. The Sheriff's son in him wanted Scott to show the police everything and make official complaints. But the Stiles that was Scott's best friend knew that he had to wait for Scott to be ready and not push him too hard. So for now, Stiles made sure that the phone was turned off and placed it on the counter where it wouldn't bother Scott. It was the best he could do right now. Scott had calmed somewhat and was sniffling in Derek's embrace. Stiles smiled at his gruff friend. Derek gave really good hugs whenever someone managed to get one from him. He was all strong and muscly but cradled Scott gently in his arms with Scott's held tucked under his chin, almost swaying slightly. Stiles recalled the first time he hugged Derek, the day Scott ditched him permanently (or so he thought) to pledge the fraternity. Stiles had shown up at Derek's apartment in tears and parked illegally in the restricted parking, so Derek just hugged him.

Scott seemed to be falling under the spell of Derek's hug now, too. His face had smoothed and his color was back, but he seemed reluctant to leave the safety he was being offered.

"Do you want to call your mom now?" Derek asked quietly into Scott's ear. Scott nodded and broke the embrace to reach for his phone. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Um...can I use your phone instead?" Scott asked Stiles cautiously. Stiles nodded and tossed him the phone carelessly. Scott managed to catch it and then left the room as he dialed. Stiles waited until he was out of earshot.

"I'm going to get revenge on those assholes. I don't know how yet, but I'm going to," Stiles spat from behind clenched teeth. "Scott hasn't been this unstable since his parents' divorce."

"Stiles, don't do anything stupid," Derek cautioned. "You can't jeopardize your future. Scott would never forgive himself."

Stiles deflated somewhat at that. That was true enough, Scott would never get over it if he felt like Stiles gave up his education for him.

"I'll think about it," Stiles muttered. Scott reemerged into the kitchen and handed Stiles the phone.

"Mom wants to talk to you," Scott wiped his eyes with his sleeve, and Stiles knew had told his mom what happened.

"Hey Melissa," Stiles said brightly, hoping the inside joke would break some tension.

"Scott told me what happened, and what you did for him," Melissa McCall sounded like she was crying. "I don't know what would have happened if you weren't there."

"It wasn't a problem, Mrs. McCall," Stiles assured. "There's no way I wouldn't have helped him."

Mrs. McCall and Stiles talked for a few more minutes until she told him she needed to leave for work and to please put Scott back for a second.

"Yeah...I know, mom...I promise I'll call you after your shift...I'll ask him...I will...I love you too," Scott said into the phone and then hung up. "I think she loves you now, Stiles."

"Pssht, your mom loved me already. Maybe now she'll let me have my key to your house back," Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Scott laughed and told him not to push his luck.

"Oh, and she asked to speak with you after her shift, if that's ok with you?" Scott asked nervously. "I told her about how much you helped."

"Um, I guess so," Derek looked awkward. "Why?"

"I think at this point she'd adopt you if that's what you wanted," Scott snorted. "But right now, just to talk."

Derek shrugged and grabbed some sodas out of the fridge.

"Which movie are we on?" Derek asked as he headed back to the sofa. "We said we'd finish them, and that's what we're going to do."

Stiles punched the air in triumph and Scott grinned.

"Wait, first I need to go back to our room and get some clothes. Scott kinda wore mine and he can't keep wearing your giant sleeves. Movie first, then the dorms, then more movies," Stiles proposed. Everyone agreed and they took their places on the sofa as the opening credits began. Scott eventually had to turn his phone on and check for messages from his other contacts, sifting through another dozen or so photos that were sent to him. There was one message though that caught his eye, and a missed call from the state police. Scott listened to the voice-mail and started texting back and forth with the boy until Stiles finally asked who he was talking to.

"Did you guys meet someone named Liam at the party?"

Stiles shrugged.

"Maybe? There were a lot of people there."

"He's another pledge, he just asked me if I was alright and if you got there before anything really bad happened," Scott's voice was subdued, more than it had been before he called his mother. "He called the police after I left. The police shut the party down and arrested a bunch of the guys for hazing and underage drinking."

"That's good, right?" Derek asked. "They'll be punished."

"The police found the pictures of me on their phones and they want to talk to me about giving a statement," Scott bit his bottom lip. "I don't...I don't think I can do it."

"Scott, you can do it because you're stronger than those idiots gave you credit for," Stiles's voice had a steely edge to it. "I know you Scott, better than anyone, and you know me. You know when I'm lying and I'm not lying when I say you're stronger than anyone I know."

Scott looked touched and shocked at Stiles's sudden outburst, and he didn't fight when Stiles pulled him in for a tight hug.

"I'll go with you, and we'll do this together. I was a witness to the whole thing, so I'll be right there with you," Stiles said resolutely.

"I'll go with you too, if you want. I need to give my statement too," Derek added. "They'll never do this to anyone else again."

Scott nodded finally and took one last second of comfort from the embrace before calling the number the police had given him.


End file.
